


Between The Sheets

by kingslayersrogue



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blanket Forts, F/M, Fluff, Innuendo(s), Sheets, Shitty Puns, pillows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingslayersrogue/pseuds/kingslayersrogue
Summary: “I swear if you did all this just so you could make a shitty pun.”





	Between The Sheets

She walks into the living room, gasping at the mess of sheets and blankets it's become. A ‘ _ what on earth?’  _ falls from her lips as she takes a closer look. All of the crisp, white sheets and blankets she had JUST washed were strewn around the living room. Over various furniture dragged in from the kitchen and overturned couch cushions. “Marcus Joseph Kane! What the hell did you do to my living room!?” His head pops out from the center of the mess, already smirking. She’d go over there and tackle him if there every damn pillow in the house wasn’t blocking her path. “You know you like it.”

“I have to know what _it_ is in order to give you my opinion on it,” She says, crossing her arms and giving him the _you’re-in-trouble-now-mister_ look. (She refuses to dwell on the fact she is giving her _36-year-old husband_ a ‘mom’ look.) He huffs like she’s the one in the wrong. “It’s a pillow fort, _duh.”_ Abby smacks a hand against her forehead, sighing long and deep. “Why, oh why, is my grown ass husband sitting the middle of a _pillow_ _fort?”_

“Because its fun,” is his very serious reply. Said in the same tone he would use to discuss the news or an important event. “No, it's a mess. You’re an adult, do something grownup for fun.” She groans aloud when she looks at him, he’s giving her the sad eyes. She both loves and hates the sad eyes and he only uses them in situations like this. Where there’s no point in saying no and he really  _ really  _ wants her to. “1 hour, that’s all I ask. I promise it’s fun in here.” She rolls her eyes and kicks off her shoes, getting on her hands and knees to pass through the makeshift entrance. 

Marcus isn’t much of an architect- he absolutely refuses to play Jenga with her for nothing more than being a sore loser- but once inside, it’s clear he spent some time on this. The chairs and arranged perfectly so that the inside is roomy with a good amount of headspace. He has snacks and two - _ blessedly spill-proof _ \-  glasses of wine. Along with his laptop with Netflix pulled up on the screen. “I hate that I think this is cute,” She mumbles, taking a handful of chocolate drizzled popcorn. “I can always make it less cute, more  _ adult  _ as you said before.” He rolls on top of her with a sly smirk, nuzzling into her neck. “If you spill my wine….”

“I’m not going to spill your wine, love.” Hot little kisses trail down her neck, performing a well-rehearsed dance in the best ways to make her sigh blissfully. He could kiss her for hours, the sweet taste of her skin was very nearly his most favorite flavor. 

She sighs as his lips roam across her collarbone, petting his hair with one hand, the other resting gently on his shoulder. “Was this your plan all along?” He pauses and looks up at her, mouth poised just above the collar of her shirt. “More or less,” and then his lips move back to her skin. Scraping over the juncture of her neck and shoulder before sweeping his tongue over the reddened skin. Abby arches upward, testing the waters and grinding against him.  “We’re between the wrong set of sheets for that darling.” He props himself up on his elbows and smirks down at her - _ that fucking smirk-  _ knowing exactly what he’s done. “I swear if you did all this just so you could make a shitty pun.” Marcus winks rolling off of her onto his back. Looking much too self-satisfied. “Don’t get too full of yourself Marcus,” she whispers, rolling on top of him. “That’s my job.” 


End file.
